


Screen Test

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Series: Daughter of Gotham [4]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:12:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashlea meets another business shark, while the Batman encounters another vigilante.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screen Test

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Oliver Queen had a crisis of conscience over his munitions company. Silver Age continuity. I watched Iron Man going 'wait, Ollie did this'.

"Ashlea, you have a very insistent appointment at nine today," Lucius informed her as she stopped by. "A Mister Queen." He waited, to see if she placed the name.

Ashlea frowned. Queen Enterprises had been on a rocky road ever since its CEO announced a departure from its armaments development. "I will gladly see him," she told the man. "Better clear my schedule with my assistant, I suppose. It's curious that he's approaching us."

"My guess? A company or personal interest in our home defense and personal protection research." Lucius spread his hands wide as he downplayed his instincts on the matter.

"I think you've got the right idea. If that's the aim he's taking with us, it would give us access to more facilities without having to retrofit one here." Ashlea could see that as both a plus and a minus. Less investment capital outlay, but it would also mean jobs going to the West Coast instead of here in Gotham. That was a sharp divide for her, and she was going to have to turn that over for a bit.

"In this global economy, perhaps that won't be so terrible."

She smiled at him. "I'll keep that in mind, my friend."

* * *

Ashlea Wayne was quite familiar with the story of Queen Industries' CEO and owner -- it was impossible not to be. Oliver Jonas Queen had lived a very libertine, very rich lifestyle, espousing any cause of the moment and ignoring his company. He'd inherited young, let the Board run it, and just lived off his inheritance. All of that had come to an end after a long absence due to being lost at sea from a party yacht with some of his friends.

Whatever had happened while the man was missing, he'd come back and grasped the bull by the horns, learning his company's art of making profit by warfare. Less than six months after his return, Queen had turned out a press release that the company was going to finish all current contracts, and then go in a new direction. To that effect, he'd already quietly bought out most of the Board, consolidating his hold on the company's shares.

However, his former clients had resented the move, and were making it difficult for Queen Enterprises to forge ahead in anything.

Ashlea had suspicions about the man himself, given that in the midst of Queen Enterprises shifting directions, its home city had acquired a costumed protector, one who used a bow. It was a matter of record that the only sport Oliver Queen had ever excelled in was archery.

Now, as Rosa showed the man into the office, Ashlea moved those suspicions up to probabilities. Oliver Queen was a fit man, with shoulders that the tailored suit showed off to his advantage. He sported a light tan, a friendly smile, and looked quite approachable.

"Miss Wayne," he said as he took her hand, shaking it professionally.

"Mister Queen," Ashlea replied, judging that shake as an honest one. She indicated the chair opposite her desk, then returned to her seat behind it. "I'm told you've been trying to get this appointment for three weeks. I apologize that I haven't been available; small skiing accident had me in a cast and I couldn't stand the pitying looks or the laughter," she said with just a touch of self-deprecation.

"Understandable. And, to be honest, my schedule kept bumping my windows of opportunity," he replied to that. "It's good to see another fresh mind taking hold in one of the more renowned companies, Miss Wayne. I find it easier to talk to people who are willing to look beyond the tried and true."

"You're referring to the fact Wayne Industries has been moving into sectors not strictly related to medical technology?" Ashlea smiled. "I have been of a mind that it does little to care for the people strictly on health care if I am not also looking to improve their lives in ways that minimize reliance on the health care system. In some ways, it helps minimize my risks in losses due to unpaid medical bills."

Queen looked at her with an appraising gaze. It did not wander beyond her face, which told her that for all Queen's playboy image, he was trying to do business correctly. "One way of looking at it, and probably of selling it to your shareholders."

Ashlea was impressed with the fact Queen did not sound bitter on that point, merely resigned. "One way," she agreed neutrally. "Now, Mister Queen, how may I assist you today?"

In answer, he pulled a folder out of his briefcase, proffering it to her. "I have a proposal for W.I. to invest in Q.E.'s new manufacturing line of personal protective gear for the military contracts, home defense technology, and a new line of visual and audio equipment to help the police forces of this country. I know your company has been researching along those lines, and we already have the factories. If you would look it over, and see if such a move would be feasible for your conscience and company, I would love to discuss the particulars at length."

//Conscience. Is that what happened to you, Queen? Realized your company was killing millions?// "It is an interesting proposal, though we have had other inquiries," Ashlea told him. "Kord Technologies, Dayton Industrial, others…."

Queen grimaced but nodded. "It's to be expected, but I promise I've laid in all my research on how to make this a joint venture that maximizes the benefit to society at large, reducing costs for both companies, and further research from both sides of the deal."

Ashlea had to admit she liked the way he prioritized things. It didn't sound like he was just playing to her company's known philanthropic angles; he seemed to honestly believe in building a better world. "I will take it under full consideration, Mister Queen. Give me a day or two to study this, and then I will contact you directly." She could not rush into anything like this, not with the corporate world considering Queen Enterprises on the verge of a collapse. She had to think of her people first.

"Of course." He then smiled broadly at her. "If I may, would you at least accept an invitation to brunch, no talk of work related to this, just so I can get to know you? It's rare I meet someone close to my own background running a successful company like this."

//Now the playboy shows up?// Ashlea considered all the man's body language… and decided that if this was truly the Emerald Archer, she might want to know him a little better. "I belive that may be a sound idea, Mister Queen. We may yet be in business, and even if not, you have a point." She pressed the call button to Rosa's desk. "Rosa, I will be out of office for a few hours."

"Yes ma'am," Rosa answered, and Ashlea stood to get her purse. "I know a little bistro that serves a lovely brunch."

"Your city… and if you ever come out my way, I'll be certain to return the favor," Queen said warmly.

* * *

Batman had wind of a suspected black market arms deal to follow up on. Ashlea begged off her dinner date with Harvey, pleading that dealing with business had made her far too tired.

Now, the Batman kept watch on the piers, eyes scanning for the transport vehicle. Ashlea wanted to catch both sides of the deal, which meant following whatever took the guns from here to the meeting place between the sellers and the buyers.

As the transport ship pulled closer, the Batman saw another shape moving, high on the nearby rooftops. Gotham's ambient light was enough for the Bat to pick out the long shapes of a bow and quiver on the other's back, and a hat on his -- well, probably his -- head. Ridiculous. And very likely to be in the way very quickly. 

"My city," Ashlea muttered before readying the tracer batarangs. She was fairly certain this shipment was going to Falcone, and was therefore confident that she could get ahead of the truck once the weapons went from sea to land. She had learned, though, that confidence wasn't everything. 

The Batman kept a low profile on the move to get close enough to see the merchandise transfer, to use a camera to document as many faces as possible. If the archer held off long enough, maybe this could work out anyway. Ashlea was constructing possibilities in her head, so that she could adapt and reach her goal no matter what the stranger did.

The first of the trucks -- multiple vehicles, that was actually halfway smart of them -- started to move, and she heard the very faint snap of a bowstring. Heartbeats later, a flash went off immediately in front of that moving truck. The shouts from below obscured any other snaps, but Batman could see the effects of more shots. 

...how had the man built **netting** into an arrow?! 

If these guns didn't get to where they were headed, she wasn't going to be able to tie them to Falcone. Underlings weren't who she most wanted, most of them were more desperate than anything. She wanted the ones pulling the strings -- and the archer was still incapacitating people in her city!

She might not be able to tie it to Falcone at this point but… with a start, Ashlea realized the boat, and therefore the seller's information, was starting to cast the lines off to leave. Any hope of salvaging at least something, even just ruining a supplier for Falcone, hinged on stopping the boat and tying the weapons to it now. 

Two lines, with the second one set to release, and Ashlea was in a gliding fall, aimed for the deck of the boat. It was going to mean combat against stronger numbers than usual, but the Batman had worked on this angle for too long to lose it.

Batman hit the deck right where she could have the most effect, and she was into combat in the next breath. She had to keep those mooring lines in place. The archer was just going to have to take care of himself while she dealt with this part! 

All too soon, flashes of red and blue burst on her attention. Cops? Already? 

No. Single car, no siren.

She wasn't fool enough to think that meant anything but trouble for the Bat, and probably for the archer, too. She dropped a hand down into a pouch, found what she wanted, and flicked a flash-batarang down under one of the trucks. The noise and light would draw attention from pier security, maybe enough to keep these people from walking away. 

Something whistled past one raised ear and Batman whipped around -- finding one of the toughs stumbling backwards, hitting his face with the crowbar in his hands as he grabbed at his nose. 

//So he… she? will aid me. Good to know.// Ashlea was really not looking forward to the swim that might still happen if she didn't get the deck crew subdued fast enough. It was going to have to be the coughing pellets, with their accompanying smoke, if she wanted to keep them disoriented long enough to escape as they got caught.

Three pellets, when the air was mostly still, should work. The gas formula was less crippling than tear gas, but the coughing could incapacitate the healthiest lungs. The Batman threw the pellets down, breath held, and then fired a line for the nearest building. Would the archer realize it was time to cut their losses on this deal?

More sirens, at least there was that -- if one of them could just be a clean cop, this bust might go down decently after all. She hit the roof she'd headed to safely, and looked back to check the situation. The archer was starting to move, but that way -- that way would trap him out on the warehouses with no way to cross the open expanse of the workers' parking. 

//This is going to be interesting.// Ashlea dialed the heavier line into place in the grapple gun, a matter of the device switching what spool was feeding it, and then aimed for a point on the taller port authority building before leaping. She had the angles, shifting her body weight, and then she was impacting the archer with an arm free. 

"Hold on," she ground out as deeply as she could manage. Her shoulder of the other arm hated her, but the added weight did just what she needed, curving the escape swing. At least the pain helped keep her voice in the right pitch.

"What the?!" his voice was a hiss, but solid arms wrapped around mid-chest and waist in the next moment. 

This man was not small, her arm told her _quite_ firmly. Thankfully, it wasn't far to the warehouse roof she'd aimed them for. They hit heavy and awkward, but they were back onto consistent rooftops, without that open span of concrete to cross. 

Search-lights were flashing in long arcs of brilliant white, and the single police car had been joined by four others. At least _someone_ in port security wasn't bought and paid for, she thought sourly, thinking over her options. 

"Shit," the archer said -- quiet, at least -- having let go and caught his own balance. "Your arm all right? Know I'm no lightweight." 

//Bleeding heart,// Ashlea thought, eyes flicking beneath lenses from jawline to domino to shoulder-spread… this had to be the one and same man that had been in her office that morning. Too many things fit in place. "It's fine." She had reinforced the armor connections to lend her extra support, and the swing effect had helped as well. "I don't appreciate losing my case to your hasty intervention," the Batman told the interloper as the next move was considered. They would have to move fast; the harbor patrol had at least one chopper in the air on any given night.

"Hasty?!" the word was a growl, and the archer shook his head hard. "They were starting to move them out -- those aren't pistols, they're next-gen submachine guns. You want them on your streets? 'Cause I sure don't. 

"And they're Star City trouble. Makes 'em my problem." 

"In my city, delivering to the underworld I have to contend with. A delivery would have yielded hard evidence and potential arrests against seller and buyer," the Batman growled right back. 'He' then pointed out a path. "Follow me unless you want to cool your heels free of charge downtown."

"Nah, not really my favorite place, lockup," he replied, and as soon as Batman moved, 'he' could hear the archer following. He didn't do too badly at it, either. 

Ashlea led them down into the nearest old neighborhood, where lanes and streets tangled and the police often feared to tread without a heavy presence. Once she was certain they should have eluded all efforts of the police and port authority, the Batman stopped on a roof.

"One warning: don't assume your case takes precedence in someone else's city," the Batman told the archer. 

"My ca -- " the archer's mouth snapped shut and he obviously took a breath, then shook his head. "It's not the 'case' I give a damn about, it's keeping illegal assault rifles off the streets where they're going to kill innocent kids, or even not-so-innocent assholes. If I'd had a clue you were around, yeah, maybe I'd have done it different. But I didn't, and I'm one guy with pointy sticks and a few tricks. 

"Also, come off the 'someone else's city' shit. These aren't the middle ages, and you're no more the law here than I am back home." 

The Batman's jaw firmed hard. "It's my city because I know the power structure. So next time you follow a cause into someone else's homeground… you might want to make an effort to know the advantages they do." 'He' then relented some. "I do not want the guns on the street either. But if I could have pinned them to the buyer, it would have stopped the guns, possibly a drug line or two, pimps… because all I had investigated pointed at a major lynchpin."

"Little hard," the archer replied, but his voice was even, "when none of us can afford to be found." 

He hissed out a breath, fingers raking through pale hair at the back of his neck. "...your buyer likely to try and get hold of another shipment? I don't have the leak on the other end totally sealed yet. If your big-wig is likely to try again... could follow another load all the way?" 

The Batman let out a long, slow breath, considering. "Yes." The lens-covered eyes settled on the archer's face intently. "A little surveillance goes a long way. Spotted you moving in before you ever fired. Assume I will be there, when that buy happens."

The archer nodded at that. "Alright then. Hate having to put people at risk, but... should be worth it. Not like I can drop you a letter or anything, but it sounds like you've got a good ear on the city. Guess I'll see you then." 

"Arrow…" The Batman stopped the man from turning away. "I will find you, should I follow this to your city. Then, it's your guidance."

"...thanks, Bats. Makes sense."


End file.
